


Little Feet

by imfallingforyoureyes102



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Dad Oliver Queen, Domestic Oliver Queen, Established Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Mom Felicity Smoak, Oliver doesn't want his babies to grow up, Parent Felicity Smoak, Parent Oliver Queen, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 18:09:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17986112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imfallingforyoureyes102/pseuds/imfallingforyoureyes102
Summary: It's always the small things they take for granted, the smiles, the tears, time. But if Oliver's years on the island have taught him anything, it's to cherish every little thing his babies do, every little aspect of who they simply are. Every breath, every smile, every laugh. Everything. Because one day it'll be gone, and his babies will have grown and become greater and stronger than he ever was. And all he'll have left are memories. Oneshot.





	Little Feet

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends, I REALLY recommend listening to "Little Feet" by Old Abram Brown when you read this. I really, really do. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

Little feet. Oliver hears them the same way he breathes, quiet and quick. Always there, never stopping. It comforts him, makes him smile – makes him remember never believing he'd have this, and that's a thought that he always shuts down, quickly and harshly, because his past is nothing compared to now. It's something he never realized would be the most important thing in the world to him.

The pitter patter of tiny toes and tired steps.

They're his own, and Felicity’s. They're life and ecstasy, sound and silence; they're the rhythmic beats of his heart and the timing to which he blinks.

They're his world, and he never wants them to grow any louder, and older. The little feet are all he has, all he needs.

And it's selfish of him to want, to  _plead_ , for them to stay this tiny.

But the way he hears them every morning on the cold hallway floor that he just  _knows_  is way too cold for bare feet, tip-toeing and gliding, fast and urgent, coupled with little squeals and calls of "Daddy" and "Mommy" - the way they sag and drag and thump against the carpet at night, when the world is quiet and the stars poke from behind the blanket of darkness that smothers them – their little feet in an insistent dance, begging to be picked up – arms raised, eyes drowsy, lips pouting.

 _That_  gives him all the reason in the world to keep wishing for time to stand still – for at least one more day, one more second,  _one more anything_.

His little feet. His little babies.

And he knows they'll grow up, that one day he won't be needed to tie their shoes or cuddle them close and tight after a nightmare.

He knows that one day he won't be the main man for his baby girl, that one day his son will be bigger and stronger and brighter than he ever was. Oliver knows that he'll watch them grow, with a bittersweet smile – watch them leave and have families of their own.

But he'll be  _proud_. He knows that.

Yet that doesn't stop the tightening of his throat, or the fog that swoops down over his eyes seconds before he's forced to clench them shut every time he hears a bell like chime for a laugh, or sees a sweet, toothless smile flashed at him from across the room.

Or when he hears those damn little feet.

He can't help it. Because, there once was a time when they couldn't even walk – when all he could feel was the comforting rhythm and sway of a wooden rocking chair and a bundle of warmth cradled to his chest, or the near silent sound of small palms and cloth covered knees brushing against the carpet.

But know they're walking, jumping,  _running_  – little feet stomping against the floor, and jamming little toes against tables, and kicking him in the face with smiles and giggles when he hangs them upside down – and it's then he realizes they're all he wants – them and Felicity – that they're all he really needs.

Because they're  _his_  kids,  _his_ babies,  _his_  little feet.

And he loves them.

_Always._

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! It makes me smile like a moron, my friends, it really does.


End file.
